


Into the sunset

by BeadyPenguin



Series: The end is never the end [1]
Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:58:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4260846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeadyPenguin/pseuds/BeadyPenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little fluff set after 3x12.  May remain a one-shot, it may not.  *Updated* it seems it will become part of a longer series while the show is on hiatus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the sunset

The wind riffled through her hair. It felt new, everything did. Franky squinted up at the sun, so strange to see a skyline not banded by barbed wire. Her hand dangled outside the car, trying to catch hold of her new freedom. Franky didn’t let her gaze dwell for too long on her driver, lest she unleashed her desire to pounce on Bridget then and there. Now that she'd succeeded in leaving Wentworth in hot car driven by a hot girl, rather than the box she had feared, it would be rather unfortunate to careen off the road. Red lights like the one they stopped at now were fair game though. She captured Bridget’s lips, releasing them only because of some insistent tooting from the car behind.

“Here we are.” Bridget said as she pulled into her driveway, beneath the shade cast by a big sycamore tree. The front garden was neat, a few well-established and well-cared for bushes and flowers that Franky didn't know the names of. She could easily picture Gidget pottering out here in the dappled sunshine. It made her smile. “You coming in?”

No sooner had the front door closed than Franky had Bridget against the wall, her body pressing into the smaller form. Her thumb skimmed Bridget’s lip.

“I missed you.” Bridget said.

“Here?”

The blue eyes seemed to dance before her. “Now.”

The kiss crystallised Franky’s hopes into something altogether more tangible. There was something noble about Bridget Westfall - even down to her name, which made her sound like she was a dashing heroine sprung from the pages of a novel. When Bridget kissed her, it was with the same absence of artifice as all their other interactions. The lithe body opened itself to Franky, making plain its wish to feel more of her. The hands that wove around her neck did so to pull her closer. Bridget’s tongue caressed hers passionately. There was no emotional equivocation - Franky felt wanted, she felt -

“What the hell?” Franky exclaimed as something soft nudged her leg. “Who’s this?” She swooped down to pick up the fluffy bundle at her feet.

“Careful-”

Too late, Franky already had the cat in her arms. And it was purring. Loudly. Franky grinned at Bridget’s puzzlement. “I never stroked a pussy who didn’t like it.”

Bridget's eyes smiled. “She’s a rescue. Had a hard life. She’s not usually so trusting.”

“Takes one to know one.” The little grey cat rubbed her face against Franky’s cheek. “So cute! What’s she called?”

“Cleo.”

Franky started to cough and splutter. Cleo squirmed out of her arms. Franky let herself be guided to a chair in the next room.

“Sit down.” Bridget rushed to the sink and back. “Here, drink this.”

Franky took the water, wincing as she sipped it. “It’s because of the smoke, from the fire,” she explained once she had her breath back. “I’m okay,” she reassured, noticing that some of the colour had drained from the concerned face looking back at her.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Gidget, I know.”

“When Vera called me the next day, I didn’t understand what she was telling me at first. For a moment, I thought she was telling me you were…” her voice grew fragile, “but then she told me you’d pulled Doreen’s baby out of there.”

“Yeah, I had to try and save the bub. Bea too.”

“What you did was brave and selfless and good.”

Franky shrugged. “Most people would have done the same thing.”

“Except most people evacuated the prison and stayed outside.” Perhaps realising that she was sounding like a therapist, Bridget stopped herself. She straightened her jacket and knelt beside Franky. “I’m glad you’re safe. I’m glad you’re here.”

Franky sat on the floor next to Bridget, her back leaning against the chair leg. “When I was trapped in there, all I could think about was getting out of there and seeing you. Fucking Ferguson was passed out next to me - I could have done her in once and for all - but I just sat there imagining what your lipstick tastes like.”

Bridget smiled faintly. “What’s the verdict?”

“Reality is even better than the fantasy.”

Shyly, they shared a kiss. Their fingers intertwined.

“That phone call with Vera, that’s when I realised that I love you.”

Franky had heard those words before, but they had never sounded quite like this. _I love you_ not _I love fucking you_ or _I love you - you got that gear for me_ \- Bridget offered a gift, not a barter. She kissed Bridget passionately in response - she relied on her body to communicate the words she yearned to say, but could not yet dislodge from her layers of self-protection.

How she got to Bridget’s bedroom was already a bit of a blur, but here they were. Franky pulled on the lapels of that leather jacket, toppling the pair of them onto the bed. Cotton linen and a sprung mattress - luxuries compared with the grimy sheets made of 100% poly-whatever and the wafer-thin foam she was accustomed to. Franky squeezed the demin-clad bottom. She’d coveted it for weeks now, and here it was, quite literally within her grasp. The woman straddling her peeled off her leather jacket. Franky’s eyes were drawn to the slender fingers that lifted off the white shirt beneath.

Save a lace bra, Bridget was bare from the waist up. “You’re gorgeous, Gidget.” A bashful smile struck Franky like a sunbeam. Franky let her hands wander over Bridget’s breasts, her fingers sometimes sneaking under the fabric. In truth, she was stalling - she didn’t just want to fuck Gidget, but she was drawing a blank on how to do that other thing.

Her mind must have been read. Franky laughed as she was, in a couple of swift yanks, hauled out of all her layers. Her hands were taken to the clasp at Bridget’s back, her own bra was deftly peeled from her. Bridget’s soft weight lay on top of her, smushing their breasts together while they used kisses to explore mouths, faces and necks. Jeans were niftily shimmied out of. Franky was driven wild by the wetness that licked her thigh, even through the lace underwear. Unceremoniously, she flipped Bridget over and swiped off her final item of clothing, with every intention of immediately diving between her legs. But Bridget re-established herself as the top, pinning Franky’s hands to the bed, one either side of her head. Franky felt her move to bring their sexes into intimate contact - they were both so hot and wet. “Fuck,” she uttered, as Bridget shuddered above her.

A few words passed between them to find the most satisfying position, and then Bridget started to rock against her. Franky might have been transfixed by the pendulous motion of her lover’s breasts, or the way her lips were parted, but it was Bridget’s eyes that held her own.

“Kiss me,” Franky pleaded softly. She moaned against the lips that touched hers, shared a fleeting look with the piercing blue eyes above her before being overcome by a powerful orgasm. Bridget hugged her tightly, and smoothed her sweat-matted hair, and whispered that she was beautiful and that she was loved.

“Come here,” Franky said, battling against her heaving chest. “Come up here,” she repeated, patting Bridget’s bottom and licking her lip suggestively. A blush crept over Bridget’s skin, and her eyes seemed to darken. Franky grinned as she watched Bridget crawl up her body and straddle her face. She inhaled deeply, taking in the heady scent. Hooking her arms over Bridget’s thighs, she pulled her down and used her mouth to cover her intimately. Her tongue glided up into the velvet flesh, embracing the fluttering clitoris. Bridget’s back arched, her head thrown back in pleasure. Franky delighted in seeing Bridget grab the headboard for support, it spurred her on, until Bridget finally came in her mouth.

They cuddled languidly, swaddled in each other’s warmth and scent. It was dark outside now - the sunset had passed them by. “How long have we been here?”

“I dunno. A while, I guess.”

Cleo hopped up onto the bed, purring.

“She needs her dinner. So do we,” Bridget observed.

“Gidget, can I stay here tonight?”

“Yeah, course. We can talk about everything tomorrow. Let’s just enjoy tonight, eh?”


End file.
